
Class. 
Book._ 



Copyright ]S ;o _- 



COPYRIGHT DFJPOSJJi 



MOMENTS OF 
DEVOTION 



By 
BRUCE S. WRIGHT 




THE ABINGDON PRESS 
NEW YORK CINCINNATI 






Copyright, 1921, by 
BRUCE S. WRIGHT 



JUL-27I 



Printed in the United States of America. 



DCI.A614894 



"The path of the just is as the shining light, 
that shineth more and more." — Proverbs 4. 18. 






MOMENTS OF DEVOTION 









"Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I 
might not sin against thee." — Psalm ng. II. 

I once saw the following outline of this 
verse: — 
i. The best Book in the world — Thy Word. 

2. The best place to put it — Hid in mine 

heart. 

3. The best purpose for which to put it 

there — That I might not sin against 
thee. 

John Ruskin wrote: "All that I have 
written, every greatness that there has 
been in any thought of mine, whatever 
has been done in my life, has been simply 
due to the fact that when I was a child 
my mother daily read with me a part of 
the Bible and daily made me learn a part 
of it by heart." 

On the cover of the Bible owned by one 
of the stanchest Christian men the world 
has known were stamped in gold letters 
these two lines: 

11 This Book will keep you from sin, or 
Sin will keep you from this Book" 



Thy Word, God, is a lamp and a light. 
How often have we stumbled in darkness 
because we neglected to walk according to 
the light. "Heaven and earth shall pass 
away, but my word shall not pass away." 
Forgive us for temporizing life by giving 
ourselves to this and to that, when thy 
Word is eternal. Help us that daily thy 
Book may be not only upon our tables, 
but in our hearts. May thy Word be hid 
within, that outwardly we may be strong. 



"Year by year continually." — Hebrews 10. I. 

So this is the record of life, year by year, 
year by year. Human history dates back 
about six thousand years. Babylon, Assyria, 
Egypt, Israel, Greece, Rome, Medieval and 
Modern history, here is the record, year 
by year. How long have you lived in your 
present home — five, ten, fifteen years? 
Whether the years be many or few, this 
is their story, year by year. So the seasons 
pass, spring, summer, autumn, winter, year 
by year. How monotonous it all is ! What 
is your work? Are you a teacher, soldier, 
homemaker, clerk, business man, machinist? 
Whatever you do, time stretches on year 
by year. "One more year, two more years, 
three more years, and I expect to do so 
and so," you tell me. Yes, and then what 
are you going to do? One more year, two 
more years, a few more years, and then 
the grave. Is this all that life means? 
Can there possibly be anything more hum- 
drum than life if this is the only measure 
we can find, year by year? Does life mean 
nothing more than tearing off the months 
of the calendar? If that is all then human 
life is the emptiest thing imaginable. Ah, 
but life is more. Year by year the Son 
of God stands to rescue life from its hum- 
drum and monotony, to save men from 
their sins, and to make the days radiant 
with service and the year glorious with 
meaning. 

8 



O Lord, our Lord, save us from the 
monotony of time. Year by year, day by 
day may thy Spirit stir us to high think- 
ing, clean living, and purposeful service. 
May time be conquered in the delight we 
find in doing thy righteous will. Help 
us to choose — "Forenoon and afternoon 
and night; forenoon and afternoon and 
night: forenoon — and what? The empty 
song repeats itself. No more? Yes, and 
this is life; make this forenoon sublime, this 
afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
and time is conquered, and thy crown 
is won." 



"And underneath are the everlasting arms." — 
Deuteronomy 33. 27. 

At once we think of a mother's arms. 
We speak of the Fatherhood of God; may 
we not, with equal truth, speak of God's 
Mother arms; "My mother's loving in- 
stinct was from God," wrote Horace Bush- 
nell, "and God was in her love to me first, 
therefore; which love was deeper than hers 
and more protracted. Long years ago she 
vanished, but God stays by me still, em- 
bracing me in my gray hairs as tenderly 
and carefully as she did in my infancy, 
and giving to me as my joy and the prin- 
cipal glory of my life, that he lets me know 
him, and helps me, with real confidence, to 
call him Father." In infancy other arms 
upheld us, for we were helpless. In ma- 
turity we become overconfident, though 
we need no less the upholding arms. We 
imagine that physical strength is every- 
thing, until the crisis comes, then we feel 
the need of sustaining spiritual arms. 
Real, though unseen; strong, though with- 
out substance; ever present, though we can- 
not put the hand upon them; underneath 
us, though we wander afar; ever ready 
to receive us when repentant, to give us 
confidence in the conflict, to lead us along 
the lonely way, to help us over hard places, 
never failing us when we fall — such are 
the Father's everlasting arms. 



O my soul, trust thou in God, for he is 
thy sure refuge. In temptation turn to 
him. In thy trial he will cause thee to 
triumph. For thine affliction thou wilt 
find him adequate. In thy prosperity he 
will keep thee from being puffed up. He 
will see thee through thy sorrow. In every- 
thing trust the everlasting arms. 



II 



"For so he giveth his beloved sleep. 7 ' — Psalm 
127. 2. 

One hour out of every three, eight out 
of every twenty-four, four months out of 
every year, and twenty-three years out of 
a lifetime of threescore years and ten is 
the amount of time given to sleep. Is it 
satisfactory to say that the only purpose 
of sleep is to give rest and repair the waste 
tissues? Sancho Panza, the little Spanish 
peasant who acted as squire to Don Quixote, 
said of sleep: "Now, blessings light on 
him that first invented this same sleep! 
It covers a man all over, thoughts and 
all, like a cloak; it is meat for the hungry, 
drink for the thirsty, heat for the cold, 
and cold for the hot." Sleep does all 
this, but it also has a higher purpose. 
Sleep is a complete separation from the 
world of strife and sin. It is suggestive 
of the higher life. Grown weary of the 
daily struggle and grind, God leads you 
apart to remind you, in solitude, that life 
is more than meat and drink. In still- 
ness you are made to hear his voice. In 
repose you enter into possession of your 
own soul. In sleep "his beloved win 
their best gifts and build their stateliest 
walls; it is there that they see visions and 
dream dreams." To sleep is to purify 
life, to refine it and get rid of its dross. 
To awake from such sleep is to face the 
world as a conqueror and let Christ dom- 
inate in character. 



Father of all mercies, we thank thee 
for the gift of sleep. In both the lower 
and higher sense sleep is a haven indeed. 
By sleep thou dost refresh the body, re- 
store the mind, calm the soul, and assure 
thy peace. Help us, by the strength and 
vision therein found, to live for thee every 
waking hour. 



13 



"He is faithful that promised."— Hebrews 10. 23. 

Here two precious words are joined — 
promise and faithfulness. It is easy to 
make a promise, but always to keep a 
promise when made, that is character. 
The wound of a broken promise is deep 
and slow healing. This should ever be in 
the mind of the parent or older person 
when making a promise to a child. It is 
told of David Livingstone that once he 
promised to send some curiosities from 
Africa to a little boy in England, and had 
forgotten to do so. The boy's father was 
writing to Livingstone, and the little 
fellow added a postscript, reminding his 
friend of his promise. The great explorer 
was overwhelmed with dismay and con- 
fusion when he read the postscript. He 
hastened to repair the wrong he had done, 
and refers to the matter again and again, 
with evident pain, feeling sure, he says, 
that the boy would forgive him if he knew 
how much he had suffered by his fault. 
It is evidence indisputable of the great- 
ness and nobility of Livingstone's character 
that his grief over a forgotten promise 
made to a little boy was so poignant. Lis- 
ten — he is faithful that promised. Oh, 
doubting one, halting soul, fearful child, 
trust the promises God has made for he 
will not fail. 



14 



Heavenly Father, forgive me my lavish- 
ness in making promises and my laxity 
in keeping them. Make my conscience 
true to guard the covenant I have entered 
into. Help me walk with patient feet 
the pathway I have chosen. May the 
power of thy unalterable word change my 
clayey character and glorify it with the 
beauty of constancy. 



15 



"Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, 
and the life." — John 14. 6. 

Personality is the striking thing about 
this statement. We declare our doctrines, 
boast our charters and take pride in our 
constitutions, which is well. But how 
vain are these things until they are inter- 
preted by individuals and made potent 
through personality. Supreme truth cen- 
ters in a person. The apostle, in his 
declaration of faith, used the word whom, 
not what. "I know whom I have believed." 
Canon Liddon wrote: "Plato is not Platon- 
ism; Platonism might have been taught 
though its author had never lived. Mo- 
hammed is not Islam; the Koran itself 
would warn us v against any such confusion 
between the teacher of its doctrine and 
the substance of the doctrine itself. But 
Christ himself is Christianity. His teaching 
is inextricably bound up with his person; 
and it is not merely because he taught 
what he did, but because he is what he is, 
that through him we can come to the Fa- 
ther." What a revelation is this! It is not, 
"I teach the way; I declare the truth; I 
point to the life eternal." No. It is, 
"I am the way, the truth and the life." 
They who have Christ walk in the way. 
They who know him have knowledge of 
the truth. They who love him have life. 
It is the power of his personality blended 
intimately with our personality, in the 
present tense, "I am." 

16 



We thank thee, heavenly Father, for a 
peopled highway, for the warm heartbeat 
of truth, and for thy message of love that 
comes to us along the throbbing routes of 
life. As we draw near to Easter reveal 
thyself anew to us, Saviour, as our way, 
our truth, and our life. 






17 



"Then were there brought unto him little chil- 
dren." — Matthew ig. ij. 

The children were brought to Jesus. 
They belong to him, but they must be 
brought. "Of such is the kingdom." Yes, 
but who is to enroll their names? Whose 
is the chief est responsibility? One evening 
at a public dinner I sat next to a leading 
Christian layman. He grew reminiscent. 
He told me something of his boyhood. He 
said his mother would put her children to 
bed, hear their prayers, then go into an 
adjoining room alone. One day the boy 
asked, "Mother, where have you been?" 
"Wrestling with the Lord for you chil- 
dren," was her answer. There is something 
Puritanical in the sound of that phrase, 
"wrestling with the Lord." Also there is 
something wonderfully purifying in the act. 
Some one hundred and fifty Christians 
were asked the question, "What was the 
most potent influence in shaping your 
character?" Fifty-two answered their par- 
ents and home influence. Forty-eight cited 
other personal examples. Twenty-nine re- 
plied books and writers. Twenty-eight 
said church and pastors. The pastor can 
do much, the Sunday school teacher can 
do much; but power rests with the parents. 



18 



O Christ, lover of children, forgive our 
neglect. Thou wilt receive the children if 
only we bring them. Help us, patiently, 
tactfully, with loving-kindness to bring 
them to thee. Fulfill thy promise, O Lord; 
may our children and our children's chil- 
dren love thy law. 



19 



"Moreover when ye fast, be not as the hypo- 
crites, of a sad countenance," etc. — Matthew 6. 
16-18. 

Christ did not condemn fasting. He 
commended it by practicing it. But his 
face was hard set against a hypocritical 
purpose in fasting. Not that we may be 
seen of men, but that we may more clearly 
see spiritual truth should we fast. One 
season is as good as another, yet we sow 
the seed in the springtime and gather in 
the fruits in the harvest season. The 
Lenten season, which draws near, is no 
better than another, except that it may 
be the springtime of the soul. Because 
of the events in our Lord's life at this time 
of the year opportunity is given us to think 
upon those events, to draw near to him, to 
strengthen our faith and bulwark anew 
our character. Fasting, in itself, is good 
for the body. Fasting, with a high and 
holy motive, is good for the mind and 
soul. Fasting should have a revival among 
Christians everywhere. All the year through 
emphasis is placed upon feasting, feasting. 
If it were socially proper I would give an 
invitation to all my friends, not to a feast 
but to a fast. That which it would be 
indelicate for me to do the Lenten season 
boldly trumpets. 



O Lord, who for our sakes didst fast 
forty days and forty nights, give us grace 
that, by every method possible, we may 
rise above the sensual to dwell in the spir- 
itual. Forgive us our crassness of life. 
Upon the things that are coarse may we 
turn our back. To the merely selfish invi- 
tation may we, these days, say, No. To 
the call of the Spirit help us to say, in his 
name, Yes. 



"And Peter followed afar off." — Luke 22. 54. 

Afar off! This it was that led to the 
tragedy in Peter's life. Distance results, 
sooner or later, in denial. Had Peter kept 
close to Christ he would not have been 
cowed by an onlooking maid nor shriveled 
by blasphemous men. "I never knew him," 
said the man who but a short time before 
had sworn undying allegiance to Christ. 
Most spiritual tragedies and moral denials 
are the result of distance. We begin with 
such high resolves to be loyal to Christ; 
in the first glow of our religious experience 
we cannot imagine any cloud able to darken 
the brightness of our new-found joy. But 
something steals in — a too liberal attitude 
toward evil, a slight neglect of duty, a 
preference for crass and worldly things, a 
desire to be numbered with the crowd, 
an unwillingness to be known as an ardent 
follower of Christ — by such methods the 
distance between us and our Saviour is 
lengthened until the step to desertion is 
an imperceptible one. Who can help noting 
that those who deny Christ, unconsciously 
it may be, but it is denial none the less, 
are those who follow him afar off, whose 
religious life is a matter of convenience 
rather than conviction! Afar off! Note 
this terrible alliteration — distance, denial, 
desertion, depression, deceit, devilishness, 
darkness, despair. 



Saviour, forgive me my slow-moving 
steps, my lack of enthusiasm, my half- 
hearted service, my silent denials, my 
compromising attitudes, my cowardly de- 
sertions. I lift my eyes and I must strain 
them to see thee, for I am so far off I can 
scarcely discern thee. I hasten forward, 
to shorten the space between, that dis- 
tance may not lead to desertion nor fal- 
tering steps to traitorous deeds. 



23 



"That they all may be- one." — John 17. 21. 

How essentially we are one if we will 
only admit it! Think of these hymns we 
sing. Here is one written by a Methodist, 
while next to it is one written by a Bap- 
tist, and beneath it is one penned by a 
Quaker, and following him a Catholic voices 
his praise. And in the hour of the heart's 
need no one stops to ask, " Who's Who" 
among the authors. We seize upon the 
strain of the one who best responds to the 
experience within. Lyman Abbott, whose 
aged hand still wields a virile pen, writes 
about the "Dissolution of Dogma." "The 
dissolution of dogma," says he, "is not the 
dissolution of Christianity. The alabaster 
box is broken and the fragrance of the 
contents pervades the whole house." James 
Denney, who went down on a torpedoed 
boat, whose gifted mind and loving heart 
the world could ill spare, gave a tentative 
creed for Christendom. Here it is: "I 
believe in God through Jesus Christ his 
only Son, out Lord and Saviour." What 
more do we need than this? 

"For Christ is more than all the creeds, 
And his full life of gentle deeds 
Shall all the creeds survive. 
Not what I do believe, but whom." 

For Christ is love. Love blinds the eyes 
to the trivial things which divide us. Love 
opens the eyes to behold the one fold and 
the one Shepherd. 

24 



Our Master, thou who didst sanctify thy- 
self for our sakes, dwell richly in us, that 
we may share the breadth of vision and 
the inclusive love which marked thy con- 
tact with men. Help us, "what'er our 
name or sign," that we may ''own thy 
sway, hear thy call, and test our lives by 
thine. " 



25 



"If any man will do his will, he shall know." — 
John 7. 17. 

Who could ask a fairer test? Is there 
any other test worth the name? And how 
simple it is — do and you shall know. Dis- 
obedience breeds doubt. Obedience begets 
overcoming faith. We claim that we are 
eager for certain knowledge of God. Then 
why not earnestly set to work to do his 
will? "Doing and knowing," wrote Maltbie 
Babcock, "are blood relations. Experiment 
and experience spring from the same root, 
and will not grow apart. Do you wish 
you had a Christian's experience? Will to 
make the Christian experiment. Would 
you know who Christ is, and what he can 
do for you? Obey him; do as he directs. 
Do not expect experience without experi- 
ment." How often do we hear men say 
that when they know they will do. Jesus 
puts it just the other way; he tells men 
that when they do they will know. Christ 
does not reveal himself to the dreamer or 
the debater, but to the doer. If one would 
know the divineness of Christ's doctrine 
his life must be definitely set toward right- 
eousness. Christ bids us, this Lenten 
season, accept his test and prove his doc- 
trine. He gives certain faith in exchange 
for a consecrated will; a mind at rest for 
a life of deeds; a sunset of peace for a day 
spent in his service; a sure eternity for a 
short span of loyalty. 



26 



O Christ of the Easter triumph, we turn 
to thee. We would be doers of the word, 
and not hearers only. Help us to use our 
will that we may know the way. May 
obedience be the guide that shall lead us 
in the way everlasting. 



27 



"As it began to dawn." — Matthew 28. 1. 

Was it literary chance or divine intent 
that led the writer of the first Gospel thus 
to refer to the first Easter? Here is poetry, 
certainly; here is inspiration as well. Chris- 
tianity is a dawning; it always has been, 
it ever will be. In the beginning light 
dawned through God's word. The physical 
dawn with which God blesses every day is 
here matched by a spiritual dawn that 
fails not. Life and light rule wherever 
men let the risen Christ enter their hearts. 
The Easter dawning is so glorious that we 
begin weeks ahead to look for the first 
shafts of light. Lent is the season of 
looking toward the dawn — watching, wait- 
ing, thinking, believing — that when the 
resurrection light of Easter day breaks 
upon the world we may not be o'erwhelmed 
by its effulgent rays. More subdued, but 
no less real, the Easter light is with us 
through all the year. And in that great 
hour, when we go hence, we simply step 
triumphantly out into the dawn. 

"Dying, they lifted his curly head, 
And he looked to the East, and smiling said — 

'It's light on the hills!' 
Arid he went away in the morning bright, 
With the last sweet quivering word of 'Light' 
On the lips death kissed to a silence long." 



28 






Our Redeemer and our Lord, who art 
covered with light as with a garment, help 
us to attain the brightness of an unfalter- 
ing faith. Walking in the blessed light of 
each day, we would claim the fuller light 
that is ever beginning but never ending. 



29 



"Now when the even was come, he sat down 
with the twelve." — Matthew 26. 20. 

Twelve were at the first Lord's Supper. 
Unnumbered multitudes keep the feast to- 
day. Fishermen, and a few others, were 
at that earliest table. Men from every 
walk — statesmen, poets, philosophers, sol- 
diers, toilers without number — have gathered 
about the table since. A few men, largely 
of one blood, were in that upper room 
long ago. Men of every blood, of every 
race, of every color gather in the upper 
rooms of to-day. How plain the feast — 
bread and the fruit of the vine. How plain 
the truth taught — "This is my body broken 
for you. This is my blood of the new 
covenant shed for many for the remission 
of sins." But peace was not there. A 
man with evil plans was in their midst. 
Others were striving for the places of 
honor. The sacrament is a holy means. 
It can have an holy end only when holily 
used. Watchfulness, prayer, humility, pur- 
pose — these are our unfailing guides to lead 
us to the feast of feasts. 



30 






Grant us power, our Saviour, that having 
partaken of the feast we may not forget 
its message. Forgive us that so often we 
come to thy sacrament with worldly 
thoughts or with the hope that some 
strange thing may happen. May the 
simplicity of the supper be its commenda- 
tion. In simplicity we would remember 
thee, in sincerity we would serve thee, and 
in sacrifice we would find our strength. 



3i 



"I was glad when they said unto me, Let us 
go into the house of the Lord." — Psalm 122. 1. 

Why do not more men go to church? 

It is the old query. It bobs up every 
so often. Every generation in all serious- 
ness propounds it. 

In like seriousness men give their actually 
ridiculous answers. If the question is the 
same the answers are likewise tiresomely 
identical. 

This query was recently answered in the 
same old fashion by various men whom 
Robert Gardner McGregor questioned on 
the subject. 

The answers were, as usual, criticisms of 
the church. All too readily we assume that 
every objection registered against the 
church by an irreligious man is a justified 
indictment of blame against the church, 
and no blame at all to the man himself. 

Mr. McGregor in his public answer re- 
jected any such quiescent attitude, and 
spoke instead in the following straightout, 
pungent manner: 

"A real reason why many men stay away 
from church is that the spiritual in them 
is atrophied. This is just as possible as 
it is for a man's mind to become atrophied. 
The spiritual has lost its fine edge, and to 
regain it a man must pass through the 
earthquake of some great sorrow; or, like 
the prodigal, be brought to his senses in 
the shame of what he is in the light of 
some vision of what he might be." 

22 



O Saviour, lover of truth, deliver me 
from silliness, shallowness, and pretense. 
If I hate thy church I will not pretend 
that I love it by giving empty excuses for 
staying away. 



33 



"His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children 
of men." — Psalm II. 4. 

The thought of censorship is not so very 
new after all, is it? It is not so very new 
and not so very bad. On the whole I 
I think it is decidedly good. Though the 
war has been over these many months I 
am still receiving letters stamped, "Passed 
by the censor." But there is a higher 
censorship always in force. "Thou God 
seest me" is a tremendous aid to self- 
control. How much better we would feel 
at the close of the day if we would keep a 
censor in our brain, upon our tongue, and 
close by our pen when we write! There 
would be fewer vain regrets over impure 
thoughts, hasty words, and unwise letters 
too late to be recalled. The phrase, "Passed 
by censor," is not an insult but a compli- 
ment. It tells the world that there is 
nothing within that is unpatriotic, untrue, 
or harmful. There are those who have 
such a high reputation for patriotism, 
truth, and helpfulness that the censor 
never looks within or starts an inquiry; 
his stamp of approval is given without 
question. "Passed by the censor" of love, 
of sincerity, of chivalry, of generosity, of 
courtesy, of frankness, of loyalty, of hatred 
of all sin and allegiance to all righteous- 
ness — be this our goal. 



34 



Our Lord, we long to lead lives of service, 
We would be builders up and not tearers 
down; helpful, not harmful; watchful, not 
negligent; ever on guard, never asleep at 
the post; eager, not slothful; deep, not 
shallow; earnest, not silly. In the mighty- 
struggle for character may we be able to 
stand sure and true before the censorship 
of heaven. 



35 



"Amos, who was among the herdmen of Tekoa." 
— Amos i. i. 

Amos, a herdman and a holy man ; a tender 
of sheep and a keeper of the flock of Israel. 
A bishop's hands had never been laid upon 
his head, yet he was a priest of God. He 
had no pulpit, yet he was a preacher of 
righteousness. He had no stated congre- 
gation, yet he was pastor of a mighty host. 
Graduating from no theological school, yet 
he was a prophet of the infinite God. Re- 
buked by Amaziah, an accredited member of 
the priesthood, driven hither and yon by 
those whose conscience could not with- 
stand his message — who called him to 
preach, who gave him the authority, who 
ordained him? He was ordained from 
above. Hear him as he says, "I was not 
a prophet, neither was I a prophet's son; 
but I was a herdman, a gatherer of wild 
figs ; and the Lord came to me as I followed 
the flock, and said, Go, prophesy unto my 
people Israel." Amos went. Since then 
millions have gone out, called by the voice 
divine, in the Master's name to do their 
work, to live their life, the glorious minis- 
try of the unordained. 



36 



Master of men, we thank thee for the 
summons to service. We praise thee, 
though we have no pulpit, yet may we 
preach; though we may not proclaim in 
public, yet our speech hath power; though 
a bishop's voice has never said, "Take 
thou authority," thou hast said, "Go ye, 
therefore." Thou hast called us to take 
our place in the only genuine apostolic 
succession. Help us daily to be true in the 
service to which thou hast called us, the 
universal ministry of the unordained. 



37 



"'Let me alone." — Job 7. 16. 

It is utterly impossible. It is not in the 
'order of things that we should be let alone. 
If the mother should let the babe alone 
the infant would perish. If the sun should 
let the ice and water alone the rivers would 
dry up and our fertile fields would become 
parched ground. If the soil should let the 
roots alone there would be no green on 
the branches, no fragrant blossoms, no 
fruitful harvests. The hand cannot say 
to the heart, "Let me alone." The eye 
cannot say to the ear, "Let me alone." 
No, we are all "members one of another." 
The American cannot say to the Britisher, 
"Let me alone." The Italian cannot say 
to the Frenchman, "Let me alone." It 
cannot be done. No nation lives unto 
itself. In the Old Testament are these 
words: "Ephraim is joined to his idols; 
let him alone." If at this point God should 
answer our prayer and let us alone it would 
mean certain perdition. He gives us con- 
science, faithful friends, his Word, the 
pulpit's flaming message — he will not let 
us alone, for "God is not willing that any 
should perish, but that all should come to 
repentance." 



38 



Do not let us alone, we pray. If we 
' 'take the wings of the morning and dwell 
in the uttermost parts of the sea" may we 
find thee there. If we "make our bed in 
hell" do not let us alone. Awake our con- 
science and keep it awake that our souls 
may not enter into the slumber that is 
the sleep of death. If we are bent upon 
the pathway of sin throw across it the 
brightness of thine own presence that we 
may behold the better way. Though we 
are joined to our idols do not let us alone; 
stir us up; arouse us from our lethargy; 
sever us from the evil thing. 



39 



"And Jesus . . . said, Were there not ten cleansed? 
Where are the nine?" — Luke 17. 17. 

Ten were cleansed; only one returned 
to give thanks. Is this the proportion of 
the race that manifests gratitude? It would 
seem so. The thankful spirit should be as 
plentiful as the morning dew upon the 
grass; alas, how dry is the earth of praise 
unto God! Why this dearth of gratitude? 
Sin is one reason. One who has yielded 
himself to disobedience does not turn aside 
to praise the God whose first requisite is 
obedience to the laws of life. The desire 
to praise follows the life-quest of pur- 
ity. Thoughtlessness blights thankfulness. 
"They simply do not think" must be the 
verdict regarding many a life that does 
not turn aside to praise. Selfishness also. 
Nine were self -centered; only one had a 
conscience for the good that had been done 
him. And pride. "Never since I was a 
boy have I been under obligation to any 
human," is the boast of many a strong 
man. Silly speech! You are under obliga- 
tion to a thousand lowly ones you have 
never seen, and of course to the Highest 
One of all. "The Road of the Loving 
Heart" was the name the Samoan chiefs 
gave to the road their grateful labor built 
for their friend, Robert Louis Stevenson. 
Shall the untutored teach us? Shall we 
plunge forward with the nine, or turn aside 
with the one? 



40 



O God, what manner of men are we 
that we should number ourselves with the 
beasts of the field! They cannot, but we 
can and we will give praise. We will 
walk the road of the Thankful Heart. 



"A friend of mine in his journey is come to me, 
and I have nothing to set before him." — Luke n. 6. 

An appeal, but no response. An oppor- 
tunity to do good knocks at the door, but 
the door cannot be opened. Our friends 
are journeying to and fro along the path- 
way of life; sometimes they pause at our 
door, for they are needy. What is the 
response we make to their cry? They need 
courage; are we able to speak the word 
that shall send them with lifted head and 
strengthened will on their way? They 
need sympathy; does our life lack the warmth 
they should feel in this, the winter of their 
soul? They need strength; are we so weak 
or is our example so inadequate that we 
cannot help them conquer the temptation 
which now assails them? They need love; 
is our heart so full of self, are we so narrow 
that we cannot stretch our life to take 
them in? They need Christ; is our religious 
experience so nominal, so superficial that 
we are unable to point them to "the Lamb 
of God which taketh away the sin of the 
world"? 



Saviour, thou incomparable Friend, help 
us to be friendly. Thou who didst never 
turn away a needy one, help us that we 
may strengthen the spirits of men when 
they turn to us. Thou who didst never 
refuse to open the door when men came 
to thee asking courage, sympathy, health, 
strength, love, help us to keep our store- 
house well stocked that we may be able 
to fling wide the door when the needy soul 
knocks, saying to him: "Come in, I have 
something to set before you." 



43 



"Lest we forget." — Deuteronomy 4, 23. 

Walter Scott described Old Mortality 
going through the cemeteries of Scotland, 
chiseling anew upon the tombstones the 
names that time had well-nigh obliterated. 
He explained his zeal for the memory of 
those who had gone before by saying that 
he wished to see the heroes of yesterday 
march side by side with the youth of to- 
day. As a nation and as individuals we 
suffer an irreparable loss if we permit our- 
selves to forget those whose sacrifice made 
possible the priceless heritage we now enjoy. 
"Death bringeth good fame," wrote Bacon. 
But fame is a very empty thing, and alto- 
gether useless, if those who come after 
fail to remember the principles for which, 
with no thought of fame, their fathers 
gave their lives. Memorial Day comes once 
a year, "bidding the distant generations 
hail," saying, "Do not forget." 



44 



O God, help us lest we forget. May we 
remember thy name, for the remembrance 
of thy name is the beginning of every holy 
remembrance. To-day we would think 
grateful thoughts as we look upon the vast 
army that passes in review — soldier, sailor, 
nurse, father, mother, friend, stranger — 
all who have struggled across the battle- 
fields of war or have been victorious in the 
conflicts of peace. Thou, Father, dost not 
forget; we must not. Help us to keep open 
our Book of Remembrance. 



45 



"Count it all joy when ye fall into divers tempta- 
tions." — James I. 2. 

What is your value as a man or a woman? 
That can be answered only in the test. 
We never know the value of a harvest until 
it has come through the test of the grow- 
ing season, until it has battled with storms, 
blights, and insects. Gold is not true gold 
until it has met the test of the refining 
fire. Friendship shines in the test. David 
and Jonathan were friends, for when Saul's 
anger was unjustly kindled against David, 
Jonathan sought David and said, "You 
can count on me, I am your friend." Love 
is strengthened in the test. I never pray 
for young people whom I marry, "Lord, 
deliver them from trials and hardships; 
make all their pathway a pathway of ease." 
Such a prayer would be base disloyalty 
to the highest interests of the home. Pa- 
triotism is glorified in the test. I would 
not say that a man is not patriotic whose 
patriotism had never been tested. But 
we can say with greater certainty of tested 
patriotism — there is a patriot. Religion is 
proven in the test. A young man said to 
me, "At home I seldom missed church; I 
always went; everybody went; but here it 
is different." At home, in his little country 
town, he doubtless passed for a loyal wor- 
shiper. But in the larger city his loyalty 
was tested, and it failed in the test. 



46' 



Lord, thou hast honored us in that thou 
hast permitted us to dwell in an age when 
faith is tested to the utmost. Conditions 
and customs challenge our physical vigor and 
spiritual habits. With joy we hail the test, 
for under thy guidance we shall emerge 
with mental poise, moral balance, and the 
soul, in every way, triumphant. 



47 



"They took knowledge of them, that they had 
been with Jesus." — Acts 4. 13. 

There are men who are proud to be 
picked out as Harvard, Yale, or Oxford men. 
One frequently meets people, and he does 
not have to be long in their presence, ere 
he learns that they are from Boston, Chi- 
cago, San Francisco, or some other par- 
ticular section of the country. Men also 
bear the mark of their task. The physician, 
business man, mechanic, farmer, soldier, 
each gives evidence of where he has been 
and what "he has been doing. It is not 
sectarian or narrow for a minister to be 
willing to be told that he preaches like a 
Presbyterian or a Methodist. Long, long 
ago there was a little group of men of 
whom it was said, "The people took knowl- 
edge of them, that they had been with 
Jesus." The most hallowed place, of 
haunting loveliness and surpassing strength, 
is the place of fellowship with Christ. 
Where is that place? Anywhere and every- 
where. The practice of the presence of 
Christ is not a matter of place, it is con- 
trolled by purpose. Each of us, wherever 
he goes, may show the purpose of the old 
man in the Faber poem: 

"Always his downcast eye 
Was laughing silently, 
As if he found some jubilee in thinking; 
For his one thought was God, 
In that one thought he abode, 
Forever in that thought more deeply sinking." 

48 



To be lost in thee, O Christ, that men 
may gather, from our walk and talk, knowl- 
edge of thy life, to this we daily aspire. 



49 



"Add . . . knowledge." — 2 Peter 1. 5. 

There are many kinds of addition. 
Things may be thrown together, or they 
may be methodically added one to the 
other. True addition has method to it. 
Out back of the church are several piles 
of gravel, sand, cement, lumber, steel. 
As they are now those piles mean very 
little — they are just thrown together. They 
are unsightly. But those several piles are 
being methodically added one to the other 
and, ere long, there will rise a useful and 
attractive building. Christian character is 
not haphazard. It is not a happening. It 
is not something that is thrown together. 
It is a methodical addition. First, there is 
surrender to Christ. Then, beside this, 
through long years of yearning, of dili- 
gence, of patience, of purpose, of addition, 
the structure of Christian character rises 
and, complete at last, it stands 

"With all its minarets and towers, 
And sculptured marbles fair to see; 
With all its airy pinnacles 
So white against the cloudless blue; 
With all its rich storied panes, 
And mellowed sunlight streaming through." 



50 



Thou hast put knowledge before me, O 
Christ. Thou hast made me to know the 
difference between the good and the bad. 
Help me to discern between the good and 
the best. To the knowledge that means' 
power may I add the knowledge that means 
culture. To the knowledge that means 
culture may I add the knowledge that 
means character. Forbid that I should be 
satisfied with the mediocre. With all 
my getting, I pray, help me to get thy 
highest knowledge. 



5i 



"The Lord was with Joseph, and he was pros- 
perous." — Genesis jq. 2. 

My father was a rich man. No, he did 
not live on the Avenue, he was not the 
head of a vast manufacturing plant, he 
did not hold the stock of half a dozen 
railroads, he did not ride about in a coach 
and four — but he was rich. He was rich 
in his religious faith. He loved his church, 
he reveled in his Bible and all good liter- 
ature, his highest pleasure was to put into 
practice the principles of his religion. He 
was rich in his home life. His house was 
not pretentious, but it was a home. It 
stood back a bit from the street, there was 
a lawn in front, vines across the veranda; 
in the rear were trees and shrubs. Within 
there were eight rooms furnished with the 
usual furniture for such a house — plus love, 
confidence, sacrifice, toil. He was rich in 
his friendships. Men who knew him said, 
"We believe in him, he rings true." He 
was rich in his citizenship. He served his 
city, his state, and his country. He put 
confidence into his citizenship, bravery into 
his ballot, a pure and high motive into 
his private and public acts. In these days 
when temperance is sweeping on I recall 
that his was "one of the voices crying in 
the wilderness"; he was numbered among 
the triumphant minority. To-day I glory 
in the riches my earthly father be- 
queathed me. 



52 



Father in heaven, who holdeth the wealth 
of the world in thy hands, we thank thee 
for all the prosperous men from Joseph 
down to the present day. Dwell thou with 
us that we may be prosperous. Help us to 
set our affection upon thee rather than 
upon things; upon the home rather than 
the house; upon service rather than salary; 
upon manhood rather than money. We 
thank thee for material wealth; help us 
to spiritualize it by the act of consecration, 
to increase it by investing it and using it 
as a sacred trust held by us for the sake 
of Christ's kingdom. 



53 



"There was a man sent from God, whose name 
was John." — John i. 6. 

There was a man — made in the image 
and likeness of God; with brain to think, 
heart to feel, soul to aspire, will to do. 
There was a man who loitered. He never 
did things on time. He went lazily through 
life. There was no energy to his task. 
There was a man who frittered. He frit- 
tered away his time; he frittered away his 
talents. There was a man who joked. 
He joked his way through the world. 
Men laughed with him, they laughed at him; 
they thought he was a joke. Lo, here 
was a man who was sent. He gave the 
impression of divine urgency. There was 
a man sent from God. In the fifteenth 
century the people of Florence besieged 
San Marco's doors that they might get in 
to hear Savonarola, who carried the con- 
viction that he was sent from God. The 
sense of divine ambassadorship is not the 
property of priests and preachers. It be- 
longs to all who will claim it. The church 
of my boyhood was built up around the 
ministry, not of a preacher but of a black- 
smith. His picture hangs on the wall of 
that great church. His memory is honored 
there to-day. Blacksmith at the forge, 
farmer in the field, soldier at the front, 
toiler before the machine, business man at 
your desk, mother in the home, teacher 
in the school — you are divinely sent. 



54 



Master, we ask forgiveness for our half- 
hearted service. We have been indifferent, 
cold of heart, and slow of step. We have 
taken our religious life too much as a 
matter of course. We would bestir our- 
selves. Bestow thou upon us the sense of 
divine urgency. Help us to walk as in 
thy sight. May we work with the con- 
sciousness of the importance of life and 
the exceeding preciousness of time. May 
we so live, through laughter and tears, 
that men may think of us as sent from 
God. 



55 



"Be still, and know that I am God." — Psalm 
46. 10. 

Most of us are ready to be anything but 
still. One of the most difficult things to 
do is just this, to be still. We say to our 
children, "Can't you be still a minute?" 
Our very tone of impatience shows that 
we ourselves have not learned the lesson. 
Our motto is, "Let us be up and going," 
rather than, "Let us sit still and be quiet." 
I have read that one day the poet Southey 
was telling how his time was occupied. 
"I study Portuguese while I am shaving, 
I translate Spanish an hour before break- 
fast, I read all the forenoon and write all 
the afternoon; every moment of the day 
is filled with something." An old Quaker 
woman was listening, and when he had 
finished she remarked, "Friend, when does 
thee do thy thinking?" Malcolm J. Mc- 
Leod says that the Anglican Church brackets 
her ministers under three adjectives: high 
churchmen, low churchmen, broad church- 
men. The late Archbishop of Canterbury, 
Dr. Benson, remarked that what was 
needed most was deep churchmen. The 
tremendous need of the man of this age 
is depth. He shows himself a man of God 
who, in the midst of the world's shallow- 
ness of thought, is able to commune with 
his own heart and be still. 



56 



Thou whose strength is in quietness, 
help us to be quiet. Thou who speakest 
not in the earthquake, nor the fire, nor 
the wind, but in the still small voice, help 
us to be still. As Moses waited forty years 
in the desert, may we be willing to tarry 
a few moments in quietness. As John 
found unction in the wilderness, may we 
be glad, now and then, to be the solitaire. 
As thou, O Christ, didst find strength in 
seclusion, may we be resolved to come apart 
with thee and rest awhile. 



57 



"The Lord hath anointed me to preach." — 
Isaiah 61. i. 

This applies to the plowman no less 
than the priest; to men in general as well 
as ministers in particular; to children no 
less than to those of maturer years; to 
women as well as to men (in the matter 
of the Lord's work there is no question of 
suffrage). As the farmer serves, no less 
than the man who fights at/ the front, so 
all people are preachers. To preach, we 
say, means to stand in the pulpit and 
speak. Yes, but do not pulpits differ? 
There is the ornate preaching place of the 
Episcopal Church; the John Knox pulpit, 
boxlike, of the old Presbyterian Church; 
the massive pulpit of the modern church; 
the plain platform faced by the people 
who follow a free and unelaborated worship. 
But there are other pulpits, and they too 
differ. There is the student's pulpit, the 
business man's pulpit, the public official's 
pulpit, the private citizen's pulpit, the 
soldier's pulpit, the housewife's pulpit — ■ 
whoever pulsates with life preaches from 
a pulpit. You speak from your pulpit, 
by your words, your actions, your influ- 
ence. Just now, in this moral crisis, what 
sort of doctrine comes from your pulpit? 
In this day of your country's trial are you 
preaching loyalty, economy, self-denial ? Do 
prayers go up from your pulpit in behalf 
of a suffering humanity? 



58 



O my soul, look well to the light that 
shines from thy life. Is it true, or does it 
lead men astray? Is it clear, or does it 
direct in ways one's conscience condemns? 
Is its blaze steady, or dost thou suffer it 
to grow dim in some dark hour of tempta- 
tion? Let thy pulpit flame be lighted 
from the lamp of His Word — it never grows 
dim nor leads astray. 



59 



"Little children, keep yourselves from idols." — 
I John 5. 21. 

What, do we need this admonition? The 
heathen in his blindness bows down to 
wood and stone, but we are not idol wor- 
shipers. Are you sure? Here is a defini- 
tion, "An idol is a person or thing extrav- 
agantly loved and honored; that on which 
the affections are inordinately set; a phan- 
tom of the brain; a misleading habit of 
reasoning; a fallacious tendency." In one 
of his books Bacon speaks of idols, and for 
the sake of distinctions he names four 
classes. First, there are "idols of the 
tribe"; those sins which beset us as mem- 
bers of the great tribe, the human family. 
Second, "idols of the cave"; by which he 
means the evil tendencies of the individaul 
life, for each one "has a cave of his own 
which refracts and discolors the light of 
nature." Third, the "idols of the market- 
place" are made up of "false opinions 
generated in the crowd, numberless empty 
controversies and idle fancies." Fourth, 
"idols of the theater"; by which he means 
the foolish philosophies of life; he calls 
them idols of the theater because, to his 
mind, they seem "mere stage plays, repre- 
senting unreal worlds in unreal ways." 
Yes, we will listen, for we need this warning 
word, "Keep yourselves from idols." 



60 



Our Father, thou who art the one true 
and living God, we turn from our idols 
to thee; from our sin to thine own self; 
from our greed to thy goodness; from our 
inordinate affections to thy pure love; 
from our foolish theories to thy firm Word: 
our idols, O Christ, whatever they may 
be, we tear them from their throne and 
worship only thee. 



61 



"My grace is sufficient for thee." — 2 Corinthians 
12. p. 

Grace, defined as "God's love in action," 
is all sufficient. It is good to know that 
in a world of need there is one storehouse 
that cannot be emptied. Humanity, in a 
never-ending stream, may enter to claim 
its riches, but they cannot be exhausted. 
Besides, in what a variety of cases does 
divine grace meet our needs. We cannot 
imagine any condition of life, any experience 
possible for men and women, in which it 
fails. The climax is reached when we read 
that in weakness His strength is made 
manifest. The apostle's thorn in the flesh, 
whatever it was, was always present. Paul 
knew it was something that would never 
leave him; but the grace all sufficient 
turned the groanings into gloryings. We 
rest upon this promise. No, we go ahead 
upon this promise. For grace is God's 
love in action. Sufficient grace is not for 
the idlers; it is for the industrious. Robert- 
son of Brighton had a lifelong infirmity; 
but here, where his greatest weakness lay, 
appeared his greatest strength. His biog- 
rapher says of him, "He transmuted the 
dross of his nature into gold by the alchemy 
of Christian effort." God's love in action, 
which made his character crystal, is suffi- 
cient for you. "Do not pray for easy 
lives," says Phillips Brooks. "Pray to be 
stronger men and women." 



62 



I do not ask, O Lord, for an easy task. 
I do not want that all barriers should be 
broken down for me. I only pray that 
I may have strength in weakness; the will 
to do my work as thou shalt point it out 
to me; and that I may trust thy grace, 
not only in occasional emergencies, but in 
daily experiences. 



63 



"The people bring much more than enough for 
the service of the . . . sanctuary. So the people 
were restrained from bringing." — Exodus 36. 5-6. 

More than enough — what a refreshing 
thought. The tabernacle filled, the temple 
orderly, the treasury overflowing, the people 
eager to serve — glad tidings indeed. So the 
people were not constrained to bring, but 
restrained from bringing. Are the Chris- 
tian people of our generation so united, 
so enthusiastic that restraint instead of 
constraint is the entreaty from the pulpit? 
What does the Lord ask us to bring to 
the service of our sanctuary? Worship. 
"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it 
holy. ... I was glad when they said unto 
me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." 
Service. "If any man will come after me, 
let him deny himself, and take up his cross 
daily, and follow me." Substance. "Bring 
ye all the tithes into the storehouse, . . . 
and prove me herewith, saith the Lord." 
Allegiance. "He that is not for me is 
against me." A good example. "Be thou 
an example to them that believe, in word, 
in manner of life, in love, in faith, in purity." 
Prayer. "I will therefore that men orav 
•everywhere, lifting up holy hands." 



64 



Saviour of men, thou who didst, without 
constraint, pour out thy life for us, we 
lift our hands to thee. We would that 
they might be holy hands, of worship, of 
service, and of prayer. To thy great 
gift which thou didst make for us, help 
us to so respond that heaven and earth 
shall echo with the entreaty — "Restrain, 
restrain, my people bring more than enough." 



65 



"Trust in him at all times." — Psalm 62. 8. 

This trumpet gives forth no uncertain 
sound. Trust in Him at all times. The 
time or the occasion is unthinkable in 
which Christ is not to be trusted. Trust 
him in the dark and in the light, for night 
and day are both alike to him. Trust him 
on land and on sea, for God and heaven 
are as near the water as the land. Trust 
him in times of danger and in places of 
safety; let us not be doubtful of his power 
to keep us when danger surrounds, nor 
boastful of our power to keep ourselves 
when all men cry "peace and safety." 
Trust him in sickness and in health; let 
us keep the health, found in him and 
reflected in our countenance, and when 
sickness comes let us supplement medical 
skill with calmness and confidence in the 
Great Physician. Trust him in plenty and 
in want, in sorrow and in joy, when har- 
vests are good and when harvests are bad, 
when business is brisk and when it moves 
with leaden feet. I will trust in him and 
do my part. He has made me gifts for use; 
I will use them. He has made me a partner 
in his blessed work; I resolve to do my 
share in this privileged partnership. I 
will do my best and leave the rest. 



66 



O Lord, failure is all about us. We 
have failed, and all because we have not 
trusted or we have trusted amiss. We 
have built upon the sands, we have put 
our faith in things that were fleeting, and 
now we come to thee, for thou art the 
sure foundation. Help us to build upon 
thy Word. May we have grace to say, 
"I follow," when thou dost say, "I lead." 
E'en in the valley of the shadow we will 
trust thee, for thou art with us. Each 
morning we will go out to work for thee; 
each evening we will come in to rest in 
thee. Thus day and night, trusting in 
thee at all times, our time will pass and 
mingle at last with eternity. 



67 



"And they sing the song of Moses . . . and the 
Lamb." — Revelation 15. 3. 

What is the most inspiring music you 
ever heard? An old man wrote me a 
letter a few days ago; he told of being in 
Boston in 1869 for the great Peace Jubilee, 
sung in praise of the ending of the Civil 
War. There was a chorus of 10,000 voices, 
an orchestra of 1,000 pieces; 200 anvils had 
been placed on the platform for use in the 
"Anvil Chorus." There were huge bells, 
and outside, in the park, was artillery to 
be fired, by electricity, in harmony with 
the chorus. At the head of the 200 violins 
stood the world's greatest violinist, Ole 
Bull, who had them so trained that their 
bows worked as in the hand of one man. 
Parepa Rosa was the soloist, of whose 
singing that day Talmage said, "It will 
never again be equalled on earth." When, 
in the "Star Spangled Banner," she sang 
the high "C," with the fortefortissimo 
accompaniment of the full chorus and 
orchestra, the bells and cannon, it was 
so loud and clear that it seemed to bury 
that wonderful accompaniment. Nothing 
like it was ever heard before, and never 
will be again. The letter closed, "I am an 
old man now, but am looking forward to 
the music of Heaven, where there will be 
music infinitely superior to the marvelous 
chorus I listened to that day." Yes, and 
his voice will be heard in the song of Moses 
and the Lamb. 

68 



O God, if we are to have a part in the 
song of Heaven, must we not begin to fit 
ourselves on earth? How we need to keep 
our gaze upon thee, our Leader, yet how 
our eyes wander away from thee! Out 
of time, out of tune, the music we make 
is discordant sound. Help us, Master, to 
find the lost chord, that, here as there, 
we may join in the grand Amen. 



69 



"Thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know 
hereafter." — John 13. 7. . 

We are very much like children. We 
cannot wait. Do we want a thing? We 
want it at once, no waiting. The promise 
of the future means little to us. Our desire 
must be gratified. Impatience leads to many 
another defect in character. We find our- 
selves growing irritable if things do not 
go just as we want them to, and that right 
away. Impatience destroys usefulness. The 
impatient man cannot stand as a tower of 
strength to those about him who need 
the shadow of a great rock. Eagerness to 
know things quickly never made a sincere 
student nor a great scholar. The desire 
to build things, and to build hurriedly, 
results in mushroom structures and institu- 
tions. God does not do things hurriedly. 
With him "a thousand years are as a watch 
in the night." God honors the man who 
takes him at his word, who goes right 
ahead, doing his work, confident that the 
newer day will bring the fuller knowledge. 
' 'Never think that God's delays are God's 
denials. Hold on; hold fast; hold out." 
It is good to think that what is hidden 
from us now will some day be revealed. 
O the dark sayings, the strange experiences 
there are in life! Could we but know! 
Some day, "face to face, we shall know even 
as also we are known." Therefore wait, 
in quietness and confidence, for "patience is 
the ballast of the soul." 



70 



Give us faith, our Saviour, to believe 
that the passing years will unfold to us 
many things we cannot now understand. 
May the wondrous healing qualities of time 
work upon our troubled souls. And while 
we wait, help us to work. And while we 
are patient, help us to persist in all good 
things. May we be profited by that which 
is withheld as truly as by that which is 
revealed. 



7i 



"As thy days, so shall thy strength be." — 
Deuteronomy 33. 25. 

"Lord, for to-morrow and its needs 
I do not pray; 
Keep me, my God, from stain of sin 
Just for to-day." 

In this hymn we frequently sing we find 
faith at its highest point. What a simple 
thing it is, how readily we all admit it, 
yet how difficult it is to do — to live one 
day at a time. The late Robert J. Burdette 
used to say, "There are two days in the 
week about which I never worry, two care- 
free days, kept sacredly free from fear and 
apprehension. One of these days is yester- 
day. Yesterday, with all its cares and 
frets, with all its pains and aches, all its 
faults, its mistakes and blunders, has passed 
forever beyond the reach of my recall. 
It was mine. It is God's. The other day 
that I do not worry about is to-morrow. 
To-morrow, with all its possible adver- 
sities, its burdens, its perils, its large prom- 
ise and poor performance, its failures and 
mistakes, is as far beyond the reach of 
mastery as its dead sister, yesterday. It is 
a day of God's." But to-day belongs to me. 
I can bear to-day's burden. I can conquer 
to-day's temptation. I can be friendly 
to-day. I can be strong to-day. I have 
work to-day. I am clothed to-day. I am 
fed to-day. The meaning in our Lord's 
prayer is very deep, "Give us this day our 
daily bread." 

72 



Saviour, we seek strength for this day. 
Forgive us our sin of yesterday. Take 
away our dread of to-morrow. Help us to 
receive this gift from thy hands, this gift 
of to-day, and use it as though there never 
was such a day as this, for there never was, 
and never again will there be. 



73 



"The Lord . . . guided them on every side." — 
2 Chronicles 32. 22. 

On every side — above, beneath, and round 
about. We are shortsighted; God is far 
visioned. Enemies we cannot see lurk 
beyond the turn in the road; God's eye is 
everywhere. We are watchful lest some 
dread disease attack the body; God guards 
no less vigilantly against the sicknesses of 
the soul. We see chance enemies in the 
flesh; Christ said, "Fear him which is able 
to destroy both soul and body in hell." 
With an adequate army and navy we 
imagine ourselves protected; God sees the 
foes within and summons us to be doubly 
fortified by the cleansing of the heart. 
God's guidance forms a triangle. The first 
side is God's ability to guide. Man has 
never called in question the infinite power 
of the Creator; he is above all, and through 
all, and all in all. The triangle's second 
side is, man's willingness to be guided. 
What rebellious souls we are, knowing 
right but doing evil, mindful of the good 
but choosing the bad, taking the soft and 
easy way when God would guide us to 
strength by the road of a hard task. The 
third side is, God's method of guidance. 
The voice of conscience, our better judg- 
ment, the study of his Word, finding him 
in the place of worship, the influence of 
manly and womanly Christian associates — 
thus is God's good guidance manifested. 



74 



God of the centuries, thou who didst 
give our fathers for their guidance a cloudy 
pillar by day and a pillar of fire by night, 
guide us, we pray. We crave not the out- 
ward glamour; we ask the inner evidence. 
Hearing the still small voice within, be- 
lieving that the everlasting arms are round 
about, may we daily trust thy good guidance. 



"Are there not twelve hours in the day?" — 
John ii. g. 

Christ spoke these words. He, very 
Son of God, heir of all the ages, from ever- 
lasting to everlasting, with eternity at 
his command, hear mm as he speaks of 
time in terms of hours. Yes, right here is 
the difficulty. "Have I not twelve hours," 
I boast, "time enough for all my work?" 
And the simple fact that I have time 
makes me procrastinate. "0 1 can do that 
to-morrow," I say; but for that special 
duty to-morrow never comes. Young man, 
how old are you? "Twenty-five years; I 
have plenty of time." Christ did not think 
so. When he was but a lad he said, "Wist 
ye not that I must be about my Father's 
business?" In the midst of his public 
ministry he said, "I must work the works 
of him that sent me, while it is yet day; 
for the night cometh when no man can 
work." How much of his work have you 
done this past week? How many hours 
did you spend in prayer? How many 
hours did you give to thinking true thoughts 
and translating them into deeds? How 
many hours did you spend in satisfying 
self, and how many in serving Christ? 
It takes but a moment to speak a cruel 
word ; the tears fall for many an hour. One 
hour of sin may mean a lifetime of regret. 
"The curfew tolls the knell of passing day." 
There are twelve hours, but only twelve 
hours. 

76 



O Christ, thou who didst wisely use the 
hours of thine earthly life; thou who didst 
come to the eleventh hour with no vain 
regrets — help me to redeem the time. 
Toward the highest I would hourly tend; 
in thy service I would daily lose myself. 



77 



"I have seen thee in the sanctuary." — Psalm 
63. 2. 

A man is known by the places he fre- 
quents. I have the right to judge a man 
by the places in which I see him. Sir, 
I saw you at your business the other day. 
That's fine. You must make a living for 
yourself and for your family. I saw you at 
the lodge last evening. Excellent. Human 
life is, after all, something of a fraternity. 
I saw you in the club reading room yes- 
terday afternoon. Splendid. Do not let 
your mind go to seed. I saw you on the 
gymnasium floor. Good. You will live 
longer, you will be happier, you will do 
better work by keeping your body in trim. 
I saw you — no, I did not see you in the 
sanctuary last Sunday; and the Sunday 
before that I missed you. Where were you? 
What Men Live By is one of the best books 
of recent years, written by Richard C. 
Cabot, M.D. In thirty-four virile, fas- 
cinating chapters he tells men that the 
four things by which they live are "Work, 
Play, Love, Worship." Each man can 
estimate for himself how much of a man 
he is by the attention he gives to these 
four things. Shall I be seen of men at 
my work, at my play, in my home, and 
refuse to give my presence to the sanctuary? 
Shall I stop short of the fullest develop- 
ment of my manhood? Am I content to 
be three fourths of a man? What, does 
one go to church to be seen of men? No. 
"I have seen thee in the sanctuary." 
78 



Lord of life, we have seen thee in the 
sanctuary; therefore with joy we regularly 
set our faces toward thy holy hill. We 
come, not as the Pharisee came, to be 
seen of men, but that we may see thee. 
Open thou our eyes that we may see. In- 
spire thou our hearts that we may will 
to seek thee in thy rightful place, the 
sanctuary. 



79 



"When I call to remembrance the unfeigned 
faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grand- 
mother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am 
persuaded that in thee also." — 2 Timothy 1. 5. 

A clause in the will of the late Governor 
Penny-packer of Pennsylvania runs thus, 
"To my daughter Josephine I give and 
bequeath the silver dollar given me by my 
grandmother, which has been in my pocket 
wherever I have gone during the last 
fifty-five years." He further speaks of 
the coin as "the one concrete thing most 
closely associated with me personally.' * 
Forty-five years ago the men who worked 
for my grandfather gave him a gold watch. 
In due time it came into my possession, 
and its sentiment is preserved in the watch 
I carry to-day. Thus do we highly prize 
tangible things, not so much because of 
their value, but because of the sentiment 
connected therewith. Paul suggested some- 
thing to Timothy, a gift that had come 
down to him, through his parents, from 
his grandparents. "The faith that is in 
thee, 1 ' is more precious than any concrete 
heirlooms. I but dimly remember my 
grandfather (he died when I was a small 
boy), but I remember enough to know 
that the faith I have to-day is largely the 
faith he gave to my father. 



80 



God of our fathers, to thee we look. 
Thou didst dwell with them; thou art still 
with us. For the faith that was in them 
we praise thee. It did not fail them; it 
will ever be our stay and strength. For 
the things they left us, that we can see 
and handle, we are grateful. But our 
confidence is in the faith that led them 
safely through and will bring us some day 
to see them face to face. 



81 



"The foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines." 
— Song of Solomon 2. 15. 

For seven years my home was in the 
vineyard country. Is there any sight more 
beautiful than a well cultivated vineyard? 
The vines are planted a certain distance 
apart, in straight lines. Like soldiers 
drawn up for review, rank upon rank, reg- 
iment after regiment, the long rows of 
grapes for miles guard the country high- 
way. I know what it means to be a vine- 
yard keeper ; scores of those men I counted 
my friends. I walked with them across 
their fields; they talked with me of their 
difficulties. Always it was the little foxes 
they were combating. A terrific storm would 
sweep the country, a late frost would come, 
but the vineyard would survive these. 
It was the tiny insect, the hidden worm, 
the deadly blight — these little foxes were 
the spoilers of the vines. It is so in char- 
acter. Who is ever tempted to commit the 
great sin that with one fell swoop would 
destroy him body and soul? The little 
sins are our chief enemies; they are most 
difficult to combat. Little sins grow. In- 
significant to-day; to-morrow they have the 
strength of a giant. Little sins multiply. 
The one He becomes many; the one drink 
becomes a dozen; the one neglect is soon 
a habit. Like the giant of old, prostrated 
by the dwarfs, we are bound by the threads 
of our little sins. 



82 



Thou, Lord, who didst never despise the 
day of small things, may I not under- 
estimate the power of the little sins. Help 
me not to be boastful, saying, "I can stop 
any time," for by that very confession 
the thread becomes a rope. While yet I 
am master of myself I choose the unfet- 
tered way. In thy path, Christ, is full- 
ness of liberty, and at thy right hand are 
pleasures without a sting. 



83 



"Moses wist not that ... his face shone." — 
Exodus 34. 2Q. 

"Samson . . . wist not that the Lord was de- 
parted from him." — Judges 16. 20. 

Each of these men wist not that he was 
what he was. The one reflected in his 
countenance the glory of a lofty experience. 
The other showed the depths to which he 
had sunk. Both were unconscious of their 
condition. Unconscious goodness is the 
most attractive. Real righteousness is not 
advertised, does not parade itself; it shines 
as the light, with quiet, pure rays; it is 
unaware of its far-reaching beneficence. I 
know a man whose work for God is felt 
in every country under the sun. The 
reason men not only heed his word, but 
honor and love him, is that his goodness 
streams from him as an effortless, at least 
unconscious, ray of light. It is equally 
true that the most repulsive recreancy is 
found in the man who will not own that 
his strength has departed from him. I 
had a young friend for whom I predicted 
a life of unusual usefulness in the work of 
the Kingdom. His strength was as the 
strength of ten of his companions, he was 
so gifted. Years passed ere I looked into 
his face again. He had changed. He was 
not the young man I had known. His 
strength was gone. The pathetic thing 
was that he thought he was as spiritually 
true and morally keen as ever; he wist 
not that the Lord had departed from him. 

84 



Thou, Master, who art able to save 
from the uttermost to the uttermost; thou 
who wilt hold from falling those who place 
themselves in thy keeping; thou who dost 
dwell with men, whose Spirit shines, un- 
aware, through the faces of those who give 
themselves to thee — I ask that thou wilt 
lead me to the heights, that thou wilt 
cause my life to shine with an unconscious 
goodness. Above all I pray that I may 
be saved from falling into the depths, 
shorn of my power, yet boastful that I 
possess it. 



85 



"I am among you as he that serveth." — Luke 22. 27. 

To serve means to save; to save one's 
own self, of course, but others as well. He 
dwarfs his own soul who says, "I am among 
you as one making money, seeking pleasure, 
following my fancies." Temptations are 
overcome in the life of the one who says, "I 
am among you as one that serveth," and 
joy is his. Much energy has been wasted 
and many foolish things have been done 
trying to make it easy for people to come 
into the church, and so pleasant for them 
after they are in that they will not become 
displeased. Self-content is the result not 
of self-ease but of self-dedication. Dan 
Crawford spent twenty-two years without 
a break in the long grass of Central Africa. 
A few years ago he emerged and gave to 
the world an enduring book, Thinking 
Black. Then he plunged back into obscu- 
rity. But Konga Vantu (his African name) 
could not hide himself. He is before the 
eyes of the world. His life of service has 
made a radiant pathway to his wilderness 
home. Apply the phrase — Thinking Self or 
Thinking Service. "I am convinced," said 
a young man to me, "that one's salvation, 
one's triumph in character, depends upon 
finding something to do, some fields of serv- 
ice outside of one's required work." 



86 



My soul, too much hast thou pleased 
thyself and served too little. Thou hast 
been filled with ease and empty of enduring 
things. Thou hast sought thine own ecstasy 
and refused to extend thy borders. Thou 
hast harped upon pleasure and hope to avoid 
poverty thereby, but thou art emaciated; 
I hardly recognize thee as my soul. Rouse 
thyself, deny thyself, give thyself, answer 
thou the roll-call to which the Son of God 
eagerly responded; say with him, "I am 
among you as he that serveth." 



87 



"Day unto day uttereth speech." — Psalm ig. 2. 

So the days have the gift of speech. 
"Speech is the impassable barrier that exists 
shutting the beast from man." But here 
is something that challenges man in his 
power of speech — the days have this in- 
estimable gift. What does the Sabbath 
day speak to you? Is it simply the end 
of another week, a day upon which you 
stay away from the office, the store or the 
shop? Is it a day given over entirely to 
the automobile, the carriage, the pleasure 
excursion, the games, or does the Sabbath 
day lift up its voice and speak to you say- 
ing, "This is the day which the Lord hath 
made, remember it, to rest in it and keep 
it holy"? What do Monday, Tuesday, 
Wednesday, and the days of the week 
speak to you? Do they say, "Another day 
of toil and drudgery, I'm weary of it all," 
or does the rising sun of each week day 
utter this voice: "Here's another day of 
blessed task, a day of privilege, a day in 
which I may earn my living, a day through 
which I may work shoulder to shoulder 
with my fellow man and strengthen him 
for the better things of life"? 



88 



Father in Heaven, thou who didst create 
the days and give them light, thou who 
didst lead us to know the light of day, thou 
who hast given us days upon days we have 
never deserved, forgive us for having wasted 
so many of them, for having in the acts 
of those days denied thee again and again. 
Help us that each day may be a new day, 
a day whose voice shall speak strength, 
sympathy, manliness, womanliness, Christ- 
likeness. 



89 



"Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man 
take thy crown." — Revelation 3. 11. 

A thing worth having is worth holding. 
The best possessions are not gripped by 
the hand, they are held in the heart. Faith, 
hope, love, confidence in Christ, loyalty to 
his church, the conquest of wrong — these 
are the things worth having and holding. 
They are not to be left behind when we 
journey afar, they are to be taken with us. 
A young man who was going to a great 
city to make his way in the world fell in 
with an old sea captain who asked him if 
he had letters of introduction. "Certainly," 
said the young man, producing them. 
"Have you a church certificate?" asked the 
captain. "O yes, but I did not suppose 
you desired to see that." "Yes," said the 
sea captain, "I want to see that. As soon 
as you reach the city hunt up your church 
and present that. I am an old sailor, and 
have been up and down in the world; 
and it is my rule, as soon as I get into port, 
to fasten my ship fore and aft to the wharf, 
although it may cost a little wharfage, 
rather than have my ship out in the stream, 
floating hither and thither with the tide." 
We are sailors and travelers. We drop 
anchor in many a port, we tarry in many 
a city. To hold that fast which we have 
is difficult but it is needful, that no man 
take our crown. 



90 



We are thankful, O Lord, for the great 
possession of Christian character, for a 
redeemed manhood and womanhood. Help 
us to hold fast our heritage. As thou hast 
given us the crown may we have strength 
and determination to keep it. 



91 



"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un- 
righteous man his thoughts: and let him return 
unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; 
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." 
— Isaiah 55. 7. 

Forsaking. "Let the wicked forsake his 
way." The Christian life begins at this 
point; the old ways must be forsaken, 
new paths must be sought. "Old things 
are passed away, behold all things are 
become new." The military term, "Right 
about, face," must be applied to the moral 
realm. 

Forgetting. "The unrighteous man his 
thoughts." The penetrating power of the 
work of grace is very great. We must 
get out of the habit of evil thinking. The 
sinful deed begins with the sinful thought. 
Yes, we must let Christ control our thoughts. 
"Forgetting those things which are be- 
hind," said Paul. He did not mean that 
the past was blotted out, rather he meant 
that evil thinking was a thing of the past. 

Returning. "Let him return unto the 
Lord." The impulse of the heart must be 
translated into action. "I will arise and 
go to my father," said the young man. 
All the distance he had wandered away 
from home, with weary but glad steps he 
returned. And having of his own will 
returned he was — 

Received. "For he will abundantly par- 
don." This is the promise divine — "Him 
that cometh unto me I will in no wise 
cast out." The Father's arms are ever 
open to receive those who will return. 
92 



Heavenly Father, we would be wholly 
thine, body, mind, and spirit. Help us 
to forsake every wicked way. May we 
put out of our minds the evil thinking 
with which we have so often benumbed our 
moral and spiritual sensibilities. We re- 
turn to thee, the royal way of complete 
consecration. Do thou • receive us and use 
us in thy service. 



93 



"Now Peter and John went up together into 
the temple at the hour of prayer." — Acts j. i. 

From Pentecost to prayer. From the 
mountain-top experience that thrilled their 
souls to the quiet act of worship. In that 
wonderful hour the Holy Spirit had been 
given them, but that did not supply the 
need of customary prayer. God gives to 
his people now and then Pentecostal expe- 
riences; at the same time we need to be 
persistent in our ordinary religious duties. 
Do you imagine that you can get along 
without prayer? Peter and John had 
no such idea. Immediately following the 
most extraordinary experience of their 
lives they turned quietly to the house 
of God. They went up together to the 
temple. Do not go alone to the house of 
God. Take some one with you. Go a 
little early if necessary, step out of your 
ordinary course that you may be accom- 
panied upon your errand of worship. Peter 
and John had been partners in the fishing 
trade; they now become associated in the 
act of prayer. The business of the street 
and the water front is carried on more 
smoothly because of fellowship in worship. 
To go down to the office or shop or store 
at the hour of toil marks one a faithful 
partner in the business at which he makes 
a living. To go up to the temple at the 
hour of prayer opens to us the divine 
partnership, showing men that we are 
striving also to make a life. 

94 



O God, we thank thee for all the blessed 
associations of our days. We praise thee 
for loved ones in the home, for friends in 
the social circle, for partners in business, 
for companions along the highway. Like- 
wise we are grateful for fellowship in prayer. 
We rejoice that worship is an act of the 
people, assembling themselves together. In 
prayer and in practice may we be found 
among those who cordially say Amen. 



95 



"The weapons of our warfare are not material, 
but mighty through God to the tearing down of 
strongholds." — 2 Corinthians 10. 4. 

The Christian life is a warfare. Christ 
taught this. Our fond idea, that the 
church is a place of refuge and that Chris- 
tianity is a propaganda of peace, is all 
wrong. "I came not to send peace but a 
sword," said Christ. Never did he meet 
evil without smiting it in the face. I have 
heard the phrase, "meddlesome mission- 
aries." It is really a compliment. David 
Livingstone "meddled" with the slave 
trade of Africa. John G. Paton "meddled" 
with the cannibalism of the Hebrides. 
William Carey "meddled" with the ignor- 
ance of India. Robert Morrison "meddled" 
with the backwardness of China. Wilfred 
Grenfell is "meddling" with the unliv- 
ableness of Labrador. In the highest 
sense every Christian ought to be a 
"meddler." I have a friend who is a fore- 
most Christian in one of our great Amer- 
ican cities. A few weeks since he wrote, 
"In our city are thugs and highwaymen. 
I am sometimes out late at night, and have 
to walk through poorly lighted streets. I 
generally carry a cane — for I am a militant 
Quaker." He is a Quaker; I remember 
when he wore his hair long, touching his 
collar; he is preeminently a man of peace, 
but it is a joy to see him blaze forth with 
righteous indignation whenever evil of any 
sort raises its ugly head in his pathway. 

96 



Thou art, O Christ, the Captain of 
our salvation. Help us in our warfare. 
Give us victory in the battle that we have 
with ourselves — our own besetting sins. 
Strengthen us in the warfare with evil 
round about; may we stand above it and 
conquer. 



97 



"I girded thee, though thou hast not known 
me." — Isaiah 45. j. 

My friend, is this true of your life? God 
has given you sight, yet you have not 
seen him. He has given hearing, yet you 
have not heard his voice. He has given 
you speech, yet you have not spoken his 
praise. He has given you strength, yet 
you have not served him. He has given 
you friends, yet you have not entered 
into the friendship which sanctifies all 
others, the friendship of the Lord Jesus 
Christ. He has given you godly parents, 
a goodly heritage, a great nation, yet you 
have not acknowledged the "giver of every 
good and perefct gift." Even in the harsh 
experiences God has been with you, blessing 
you and working his will. The novelist, 
George Macdonald, put into the mouth of 
one of his characters who had been buf- 
feted by severe experiences and in rebellion 
was complaining to a friend of the hard- 
ness of her life, these words — u O I would 
to God I had never been made." The 
friend quietly replied, "Why, my child, 
you are not yet made; you are just being 
made, and here you are quarreling with 
God's processes." God was girding her, 
day by day. He was with her, refining 
her character, fitting her for usefulness. 
My friend, could the voice divine speak 
to you this tender but sad condemnation 
— "I have girded thee though thou hast 
not known me"? 

98 






Lord, this Thanksgiving month we pray- 
that we may have the spirit of thankful- 
ness. May we not be numbered among 
those thankless children whose ingratitude 
is "sharper than a serpent's tooth. ' ' Through 
good report and through ill thou hast been 
with us. Thou hast "covered our head." 
Therefore we covenant with thee that this 
may be said — "J have girded thee and thou 
hast known me." 



99 



"And, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, 
went before them." — Matthew 2. g. 

The wise men were star-led. Nothing 
less than a star could have guided them. 
The wise men were astrologers. Their 
study of the stars was doubtless tainted 
with ignorance and superstition, yet to 
the representatives of this imperfect sys- 
tem the star of Christ came. The star 
stood then for the highest and best in life; 
so it stands to-day. The life that is star- 
led is the life that interprets God to the 
world, that comes finally to the Christ. 
What is it that is leading our lives? Are 
we star-led? Are we coming step by step, 
though it be through imperfect reasoning 
at times, to Christ? This is the world's 
need. The problem of life is not the prob- 
lem of wealth, nor of society, nor of knowl- 
edge — it is the problem of consecration. 
The great ideal is to get wealth, society 
and knowledge consecrated, dedicated to 
a high and holy purpose, to get them 
star-led. O the power of wealth that is 
star-led! O the influence of a society that 
is star-controlled! O the depth and height 
of a knowledge that is star-guided! 



Our Master and our Lord, whose life 
is the purest, whose light is the clearest, 
we look to thee this holy season. Have 
we walked in darkness? Forgive us, we 
pray. We turn to the light. We set our 
faces toward the star. May that star, 
which has brought light to the ages, bring 
joy to our hearts. 



"Where there is no vision, the people perish." 
— Proverbs 2Q. 18. 

Vision. This word may have a physical 
meaning. There is such a thing as a vision 
of physical health. Theodore Roosevelt, 
by no means a sturdy youth, caught the 
vision and achieved bodily strength and 
athletic prowess. Or vision may mean 
always looking on the bright side of things. 
To wear the dark cloud inside out is to 
have vision. Vision may also mean a plan 
or a program. A successful farmer said 
to me, "I try each year to do better than 
I did the year before; to grow a better 
and larger crop." He had vision. But 
we must go deeper yet if we would under- 
stand the real meaning of the word vision. 
It means a divine revelation. Vision is 
something that rises before us, ungrasp- 
able but not impractical; intangible but 
not unreal. It is something that draws 
out the best in us, and draws us on, always 
on and always up. Jesus, for the vision 
that was before him, endured the cross, 
despised the shame, and is now set down 
at the right hand of the throne of God. 
Paul, lured by a vision, forgot the past 
and pressed on toward the mark for the 
prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus. 
We need vision ; that sordid plans may give 
way to loving service; that darkness and 
doubt may flee before a full-orbed faith; 
that death, here and there, may be crowned 
with life. 



Gracious Father, who hast permitted us 
to live in these great times, grant us strength 
adequate to the tasks of the new day. 
May the vision be bright before us; may 
we not fail to follow. Give the nations of 
the earth confidence in the world's Saviour. 



103 



"A little child shall lead them." — Isaiah II. 6. 

Christmas belongs to the children. At 
this season presidents, legislators, judges, 
generals, step out of the limelight, and the 
children march in. "Happy, happy Christ- 
mas, that can win us back to the delusions 
of our childish days; that can recall to the 
old man the pleasures of his youth," wrote 
Charles Dickens. We are all glad to be 
children at Christmas time. What strange 
thing has power to subtract the years and 
for a day make us children the world 
'round? No strange thing, but the central 
truth of history. Christmas acknowledges 
the leadership of the Child. The entire 
verse reads, "The wolf . . . shall dwell with 
the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down 
with the kid; and the calf and the young 
lion and the fatling together; and a lit- 
tle child shall lead them." The prophet 
gives us a picture, figurative it may be, 
but not wholly so, of redeemed nature. 
I am convinced that the picture will be a 
reality, that order will come out of chaos, 
that hatred will give way to love, that 
men will "beat their swords into plowshares, 
and their spears into pruninghooks," only 
by the leadership of the child — your child, 
and my child, the child of America, Asia* 
Africa, Europe — all led by the Child whose 
birthday the world keeps, who came as 
God's gift of love to men, and who alone 
is able to lead us back to the Father's 
yearning heart. 

104 



We thank thee, our Father, that thou 
hast set the children in our midst. For 
their sakes do we build four walls and a 
roof, and set the table. For their good 
do we cheerfully maintain schools and 
churches, cities and streets. For their joy 
do we sacrifice and strain. For their pros- 
perity do we plan and pray. But lo, they 
are leading us, and in their van is the 
Child, now our Lord and Saviour, but 
once a child. Save us, and save the world's 
childhood, in His name, we pray. 



105 



"I went with them to the house of God, with 
the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that 
kept holy day." — Psalm 42. 4. 

The multitude kept holyday, not holiday. 
A holiday was originally a holyday. How 
incongruous is the keeping of most of 
our holydays. Have the days degenerated 
or are the people to blame? By heroic 
effort, by a nation-wide campaign we suc- 
ceeded in rescuing the Fourth of July from 
an insane celebration. The next and most 
needed reform is the rescue of Christmas. 
"Only twelve more shopping days until 
Christmas." And so we commercialize the 
holiest day on the calendar. "I am at my 
wits' end; what can I get Jane and John, 
uncle, aunt, cousin, friends?" And the 
season which ought to be given over to 
gladness and praise becomes a time of 
fuss and worry. "What new thing can 
I do to celebrate Christmas?" is the ques- 
tion we ask; seldom, "How can I best 
consecrate the day?" Christmas belongs to 
Christ. It is his birthday. Alas, we have 
made more of the day, than we have of the 
deed it commemorates. "Unto you is born 
this day in the city of David, a Saviour, 
which is Christ the Lord." An angel stood 
by. The glory of the Lord shone round 
about. The heavenly host sang. The 
shepherds searched out the manger-cradle. 
The wise men worshiped. Gold, frankin- 
cense, and myrrh they gave, not to one 
another, not to Cassar, but to Christ. 

106 



O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy 
name in all the earth! Remembering our 
friends, we would not forget thee. Lavish- 
ing gifts upon others, we would not let 
the season pass without a recognition of 
the love thou hast shown us. Making 
the day happy, we would not neglect to 
make it helpful and holy. Though there 
is strife in the world, we would be at peace 
with thee. We number ourselves among 
the multitude, that with the voice of joy 
and praise, keep Christmas a holy day. 



107 



"And being warned of God in a dream that 
they should not return to Herod, they departed 
into their own country another way." — Matthew 

2. 12. 

The wise men returned home another 
way. They could not go back the way 
they had come; they had seen something 
that changed their path of life. Another 
way — this is the only possible afterpath 
of the right keeping of Christmas. If we 
have caught the real Christmas message 
our life cannot be the same that it was 
before. Our thoughts will be higher, our 
vision clearer, our hands cleaner, our life 
more open, our spirit more generous. 
Dickens, in his Christmas Carol, tells of 
Scrooge, crabbed, selfish, shut-within-hirn- 
self old fellow. He hated Christmas, he 
hated the poor, he hated children, he hated 
everything that had any suggestion of 
Christmas. One Christmas Eve he had a 
dream of the horrid man he really was; 
he loathed himself, he longed to be back 
in the world, he prayed for just one more 
Christmas day that he might keep it 
aright. He awoke with a start, he realized 
that he had been dreaming. He leaped 
out of bed, dressed in haste, ran out upon 
the street, almost like a mad man, crying 
to everyone he met, "Merry Christmas." 
Such a day did he have! Such a life did 
he live thereafter, it was never again the 
same. He had caught the spirit of Christ- 
mas. He returned another way, he lived 
a diferent life. 

108 



Father above, we step out into the after- 
path of this Christmas. We pray that it 
may be a new path, another way, a better 
life for us. We would follow in the wake 
of the wise men. As they found it im- 
possible to return to the companionship 
of the sinful Herod, may we find the evil 
way impossible, the holy, helpful way in- 
viting. May Immanuel lead us all this 
year. 



109 



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